Reflections from the Gilmores in Northern Ireland

Me: “When you look in the mirror to shave or wash your face, what do you see?”

“I only see the razor, I don’t ever look at me.”

“That’s a horrible thought.”

“Sometimes I glance at myself and them shutter and walk away.”

“I see the tired lines, the deep frown, the loneliness.”

“I hate who I am…”

Some of the responses I heard this week when I carefully raised the question of what people see when they look intentionally at their reflection. I say, ‘carefully’ because it is an invasion of trust. How we view ourselves and what it is like to see pain etched across our own face is something intimately private. It is vulnerable to share the wounds of rejection looking back at you.

We can all easily recall the moment when we were not good enough. Not fast enough for the track team, not pretty enough to be asked to the prom, not smart enough to get into that program, and then, when you do give your heart not enough for your partner to stick around. Always someone nicer, prettier, more accomplished. Our stories are etched with rejection. The heavy beat of failure and the pounding drum of disappointment pulses through our days and we sing the lyrics of the ugly lies, knowing the words by heart. The lies become our heart.

The responses above come from people who have for years tried medication, escape, work, drink, sex, blade, all attempts to bury the beat of self-rejection. It ends up futile and empty. And I wonder what to do with it when it has

been the beat of my own heart. How do I help those experiencing self-loathing when it has been my story too. I don’t want to be enmeshed but I do get it. Sometimes clients are addicted to seeing the negative and the ugly. It has somehow become them and their brain needs to be re-wired and re-channelled to see some beauty in a given moment. Even in our striving for joy and the fullest of life we can so easily choose the empty dark. Joy can be found in small ways but the allure of the deceit and lie is much stronger.

Yet, I know that God longs for His children to fully live. To embrace the fullest of lives – right now. I have spent many days thinking about God but, “it is how God thinks about me that is infinitely more important.” (C.S Lewis)

When I ask the question of how God sees them another layer of shame is revealed. In our toxic environment, the church has become another layer of shame and rejection for some. It becomes incredible to help peel that away, the song of acceptance becomes crystal clear for the first time, “I have loved you, says the Lord.” (Malachi 1:2)

I have heard His song of love and it draws me. So I share a little of what I see in them and how they make me feel. When I share that I am proud of them or I admire their strength or I think they are really special person, the song of acceptance begins to shine across their face. We talk about the possibilities of joy and hope and the maybes. They are encouraged to look in the mirror and re-frame what the lies have done. We can see beauty and hope and new beginnings. They recognise the deceit snarling and chase it away to see the well almost full to dive into.

“The Wounded Warrior is achingly tender with the broken ones” and He has all the patient time to gently lead those who seek and He keeps leading {even me} back to Him (Ann Voskamp).

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Working for peace and justice in Northern Ireland

Alison Gilmore grew up amid the rolling green hills and narrow roads west of Belfast, Northern Ireland, and she’s well aware of how the “troubles” reached their formal end.

She knows the Good Friday Agreement was signed in April 1998—after more than 3,600 people had died, and thousands more were injured. She remembers how both sides, for the most part, laid down their arms and agreed to share power.

Alison Gilmore is shown here with her three children and family pet on the hillsides of Northern Ireland. It’s a place she remembers well, having grown up in the countryside west of Belfast in the village of Tempo.

How peace, or a semblance of it, was restored after three decades of bloodshed.

Sometimes, in her counseling office at East Belfast Mission—a nonprofit with a 170-year-old history of serving the poor and marginalized within the city—Gilmore has her doubts. In that room, with its soothing, apple green walls and burning candles, the violence, hate and anger still rage. Sometimes she has to schedule personal recovery time between therapy sessions.

“My clients knew guns and bombs and death beatings in ways that truly shock, repulse and give me disturbing images in my mind,” said Gilmore, appointed by the General Board of Global Ministries and assigned to the mission as a mental health counselor in 2011. “Violence leaves lasting footprints, shadows that haunt a person that come through in addiction, depression and inappropriate behaviors.”

The mission—which includes a homeless shelter, a worshipping congregation of about 200 people, education classes and job training—offers free counseling to all in the community. Gilmore estimates 75 percent of the issues she treats are directly related to the fighting. Her clients are victims and aggressors and everything in between, paralyzed by guilt and shame, unsure of how to make peace with the past.

“There is a lot of regret,” said Gilmore, whose husband, Britt, is a United Methodist minister at a nearby church in East Belfast. “Issues of guilt are something I experience from clients. They cannot comprehend why they acted or did what they did.”

Legacy of pain

Walking through those painful memories alongside her clients is more than a job for Gilmore, who hails from the sleepy village of Tempo in County Fermanagh. It’s an opportunity to use her God-given talents to help heal her home country after so many years of conflict.

“There was something captivating about living life differently from the norm,” Gilmore said. “I wanted to share Jesus with others in a practical way, and the thought of being in a place of vulnerability, yet dependence on God, was appealing.”

Before returning in 2011, she and Britt had lived in America for eight years, and she knew the transition would be challenging.

“Ireland was home, but I was also away long enough to realize that home changes and to fit back in would never be easy,” she said.

Gilmore admits to being surprised by the extent of emotional trauma in Belfast.

She saw families plagued by hostility and depression and an alarming increase in suicide across the country. Those still-raw wounds were evident in January 2013 when protests, some of which were violent, erupted near the mission after Belfast officials voted to limit the number of days City Hall would fly the British flag. One year later, angry loyalists protested outside the mission when it hosted a reconciliation program that featured Brighton bomber Patrick Magee and Jo Berry, the daughter of one of his victims.

“I had to relearn and work hard to truly understand what the troubles were like for those living with it every day,” Gilmore said. “I only experienced the tip of the iceberg.”

Home to East Belfast Mission, the Skainos Centre is part of an urban regeneration project in the inner city. It’s described as a space for community transformation and renewal. The civic square hosts outdoor concerts, farmers markets and other events.

‘What you remember’

The soft-spoken mother of three—12-year-old Ellie, 10-year-old Emily and 6-year-old Jake—considers herself fortunate to have lived “a very peaceful and carefree childhood” in Tempo with an extended family that included 48 first cousins.

“My parents had Catholic friends and dad owned a construction business employing both sides of the community. Not many would do that, as there is a saying, ‘We look after our own,’” said Gilmore. “My mother always taught me to be open and to see good in friends who didn’t share the same religion.”

Divisions and strife between Catholics and Protestants were simply a normal part of daily village life.

“The elementary schools were separated with the Catholic school directly across the road from our Protestant school,” said Gilmore, who was raised in a “decidedly religious, but not Christian,” home. “We walked home on one side of the street and they, the other.”

When Gilmore was about 12, she experienced her first bombing in the nearby town of Enniskillen while shopping for back-to-school uniforms.

“I was shopping with mum and remember the force of the bomb exploding shop window fronts close by us,” she recalled. “Unharmed, that was my first real experience of terror.”

A few years later, in 1987, Enniskillen drew worldwide attention when a massive Irish Republican Army (IRA) bomb killed 12 people at a Remembrance Day service. Gilmore’s father lost a cousin and his wife in the blast.

Although her parents were open-minded and never taught her to dislike Catholics, she readily admits to a fear of Republican neighborhoods that lingers to this day.

“Sometimes the fear comes from what you remember.”

Planting sequoias

Gilmore works hard to keep that in mind when she’s helping clients sort through deep-seated hatred of “the other side.” But the darkness can be overwhelming.

“I have had periods of loneliness and wondering when God would show up,” she said. “The belief that forgiveness would work was deeply rocked for me when I couldn’t see that within people I admired. I felt, does all this work? Can we really help people reconcile? Is it worth it?”

In those moments, Gilmore holds tightly to the power of God’s grace, balancing two different images, so many clients share with her—the person they once were and the person they want to be.

“As we deal with the wounds of pain and despair, I also gently share the new picture of light and goodness and a better way,” she said. “We walk there together. For many, and this is key, it is not going to be a 10-step change. It will never be Eden for any of us, but if it can be only two steps better, then I’m thrilled.

Gilmore also chooses to focus on the long game.

“I decided very early that life should have purpose and adventure, that I was called to plant sequoias—a seed so small and where I would never see the end result,” she said. “I like planting sequoias. Now, it is with my children and, hopefully, in the counseling room at EBM.”

–Kari C. Barlow is a freelance journalist based in Pensacola.

In Her Own Words
Read more of our conversation with Alison Gilmore, a UMC Missionary serving in Northern Ireland.

What are you teaching your children about Catholics or anyone who is different from them? What do you stress to them?
We don’t mention terms like Catholic or Protestant. We are working through how as a family and a believing-in-God family makes us different. There are few Christians in their classes, and pressure for material possessions is huge. This is a whole new conversation, but we want to show that our root is in Jesus: His love and gentleness and acceptance of who you are.

As a wife, mother and counselor with many other roles, how do you keep your eyes on God and stay focused on his will?
I recently created a table of things important to me: pictures of the kids, Britt, my mum, dried flowers, bible, bullet journal, pens, a candle and cross. I try and sit here each day to be still and live these words I have challenged myself with: whole, grounded, gracious. I like to read, listen to music, and I’m beginning to enjoy some Celtic prayers and liturgy—not common from my Protestant background!

Do you have a favorite scripture that brings you comfort or gives guidance? Or a hymn or music that you turn to regularly?
Love, love to sing! You will hear me every day singing. Hymns by the Gettys and Andrew Peterson are excellent. Peterson writes with insight and beauty. I have used pieces in therapy. My all-time favorite verse is Zephaniah 3:17:

For the Lord, your God is living among you.
He is a mighty savior.
He will take delight in you with gladness.
With his love, He will calm all your fears.
He will rejoice over you with joyful songs.

What is your hope for East Belfast Mission in the future?
I think that verse encapsulates what I hope for: not to live in fear; to know that the presence of God is close by and how incredibly beautiful to know that He, the sovereign one, who gathers nations, rejoices over us. That is the Garden of Eden for me, as we live in barren lands.

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A year ago I received a message asking if I would act as a spiritual director for the lady on the other end of the phone.Spiritual Direction is probably more practised in the States, whereas, the idea of meeting with a person to seek where God is leading or being present in one’s life is very new in Ireland.

I was a little hesitant as, after all, I’m more a therapist and I knew the tendency in me to dig and explore together in a Counseling relationship was different from the quietness and less directive approach of a spiritual director.I also knew the person well from olden days, a woman of vast intelligence, sincerity and analytical in nature.

I did what I’m learning to do and had an open conversation with her about how this might possible look and we setup some healthy boundaries: I mayslip into psychodynamic mode and would struggle to remain silent; I offered a trial period and if they wanted to leave and find a more gifted director then there was permission for that too.A date was set.

In our Monthly meetings this is what I’ve learnt:

Stillness is beautiful as I listen to my breathe and hear my heart beat.

Minutes of quiet without a word is rich.

Every month I’m actually left stunned that questions and words and thoughts are planted by God.I do zero preparation, barely any prayer leading into it and yet, God is present and challenging both our lives.

A word was selected that summed up what she needed in her life this year: ‘Permission’.Permission to say No.Permission not to follow the pathway that society pushes you along.Permission to try new adventures.Permission to laugh more.

I liked the word so much that I made it into my blocks that sits above my sink.Having no dishwasher for a few months () I wash dishes with assigned child on rota and give us both permission to moan, talk and allow child to talk about whatever is big that day for them.

Each month in this “spiritual time” with the lady we discuss books, music, parents, early mornings and faith.I have learnt bundles of grace and serenity from observing her life.I read the books she suggests, and her company in this faith journey is a blessing.I love how uniquely God works in that quiet space for one hour each month.

All of this is in direct contrast to some of the people before and after.Many of the clients walking down the hallway of East Belfast Mission, lack those boundaries that we set, have no permission to open themselves up to the vulnerable that lies within their very core.Too frightened, too rigid, too hardened to allow the Spirit to soothe and warm their souls.I’ve been troubled by the high level off anger in one client.I see pain in secrets never shared in case it erupts the relationships, and I see how death leaves a tsunami of grief.

The violence of Belfast war years still lies dormant, easily set off by Brexit, failed governments, injustice.I hear the grief from a mother whose child was gunned down many years ago but the lifelong devastation it brought to them still like yesterday.I see how the secret of an affair tears the fabric of family life.

If I can feel the presence of God in my spiritual direction role, then why can I not feel Him with the angry person?

The advantage with the lady during spiritual direction is, of course, the shared Christian faith that has both unhinged us in the past and is now being re-made, renewed.She also comes with great self awareness.The majority of my present case load lack that vital need – who are you? what are you about? Where do you belong? what journey are you on?

I suppose I need permission to keep in check the lack of opportunities that many face to explore themselves, and keep balanced that God can be present.I need that permission again to sit with the angry person, understand where they come from, that they have not been offered the same opportunities that I have to explore my heart and mind.I believe I’m called to this ministry; to graciously offer them acceptance, space and invite each to explore their vulnerabilities, resolve negative patterns and give them permission to invite stillness.

Funding Issues:

We have two new counsellors working at East Belfast Mission.Victor is on student placement, and Stephanie is working towards accreditation.They join Eileen, Norma, Stuart and Janet (all volunteers), and myself.Together, we offer around 40 hours of free Counselling services to the community around the Mission.However, we have no funding and feel concerned

about future roles.We would like EBM to fund a salary or be able to raise money in order to provide the stability we need.This is a matter of prayer.

Family:

The children (Ellie 12, Emily 10 and Jake 5) are enjoying summer holidays.We managed to travel to the Isle of Wight and unto Denmark to join American friends for a joint holiday.Great to catch up and explore the city, laugh, eat picnics and raise our shared 7 kids for this week.Tiring but fun.

Until the Fall, may you grant yourself permission to be who you really are,

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The mind often battles with believing the truth about oneself.Negavity and self-spiralling thoughts, words and scenarios cloud our mind.As one client told me last week, “there are too many ‘chattering monkeys’ in my head”.

Maybe that is why we keep busy. We keep ourselves preoccupied with work, household chores or doings just to keep the chattering monkeys at bay.The things that we know to be good, true and what we deeply long for, like rest, reflection, thankfulness and self care, become elusive, hard to reach or weighed under a cloud.

“You’ll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. Put into practice what you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realized. Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies”.

Philippians 4:8 (The Message)

As we know, there are many different kinds of people.Ones who see the glass half empty, half full or somewhere in between.There is the self-loathing person who is a victim of circumstances or a victim of self.Then there is the self-deceiver (I’ve met quite a few) who have conveniently made up a lie and convince everyone else they are right.They smell of arrogance and play an elusive game.

Though both types trouble me, it’s the upbeat and optimism person that has grasped my attention as off late.I have valued how a more optimistic mind can see good or put a different perspective on situations.I feel their calm in my turmoil, their reflectiveness to my impulsiveness as they are Winnie the Pooh to my Eore.I love having the ‘Poohs’ in my life, and thankful for their serenity and outlook.

Why we think and feel the way we do is partly due to our genetic makeup, our life experiences, personality, and sometimes, dare I say it, an unwillingness to deal with the ‘elephant in the room’.Sometimes our positive attributes mask pain too difficult to even begin to unravel.It’s much easier to avoid than to lay it bare on the table.Working with a female client over three years was a roller coaster that she often wanted to stop.Perseverance and love kept her in it, facing the pain and now releasing it.

In conversations where it seems life is: “fine” , “wonderful” – I like to prod.What do you do when life gets tough?Or when someone lets you down?What would it be like for you to be more vulnerable with someone safe?Those questions often lead to a gasp, or a slight tinge.The word ‘vulnerability’ makes the eyes widen and the body back further into space.Dealing with real emotions is really hard to do.

How do we stop living the lie and believe in the truth, that though there are many wrinkles in our relationships, and patterns of behaviour we need to work on, if we can face the truth with honesty, humility and a supportive friend, then we can live into the truth that we are more than enough.

One of our children was making beautiful cookies that needed to be rolled into petite balls, then covered in melted chocolate and sprinkles.This was their own plan.They found the recipe and asked me to purchase items.The table was ready for their own quiet, afternoon activity, and it certainly didn’t involve other members of the family.

Alas, this was not the plan of others. Others wanted to be involved and help, causing much distress to the cook, who in frustration send the melted chocolate balls into a messy heap at the bottom of the fridge.Running to hide away from all siblings, anger, mum’s frustration and their own shame, they sat alone (and cold) – hating themselves the most.After some time, as space and quiet is a good healer, I found myself huddled beside child in the cold garage having a chat about believing in the truth, dealing with their anger and my own. I really wanted child to hear from my lips that there is always a way back.Don’t sit alone and broken.Don’t remain slumped in shame of what you did or said.Eventually, child came inside.Weepy, shame buried deep.“There is always a way back”, I whisper.I needed to hear it as much as child.I tried to stay quiet as child patiently repaired by re-rolling, touching up the icing and sprinkling with colour.We both looked at the cookies on the decorative plate.We both felt pleased.The coldness had gone, my frustration had eased and love remained.Something more beautiful was at work.By carefully reshaping the cookies the ugliness was removed.I gently hinted that maybe as the cookies were “repaired”, could they also seek to “repair” the brokenness in the relationship with other family members?

The word sorry might not have passed their lips, but there was an invitation to the others to be part of the kitchen again and share in what was made.

Did it exhaust us and make us worry and take up valuable time? Absolutely.But one thing this child is learning, and me, is there is a way back.Believing in the truth that forgiveness and love and a renewed space can grow.By not living in shame or denial, but facing the messiness, good can occur and whatever is lovely revealed.

It may take a cold afternoon in the garage to realise that, but it can also take 3 years and counting. So don’t hide behind “everything is okay”.Often it is not.Surround yourself with a safe person, walk towards the fault, hurt or pain, knowing there is always a way back from shame.There is redemption for us all.

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“For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach.”

I always feel June is like December. June is frantic with busyness and end of year this and thats. I always struggle with this end of year madness. For reasons that will unfold, this summer has brought an even greater feeling of weariness. Travelling to the counselling room I felt tired even before I started. Certain clients I was meeting gave me a heavy in the heart pit feeling that continued into the summer. I couldn’t really explain it. Until now.
The summer has Britt and I glued to the BBC News each night witnessing some historic moments in British politics. The Referendum, Brexit and subsequent leaders resigning. The Chilcot Enquiry raising doubts and questions over the Iraq War. Donald Trump stating if he is elected President he will go to war with ISIS. Comments that give rise to what David Ford has called “multiple overwhelming’s”.

Fear takes rein and you wonder if it is safe to fly or travel on the undergrounds in London this summer. Worldwide violence from shootings not far from our old house in Orlando, to horror in Nice made us both heart sick and wondering why? Why is there so much hatred and violence that only leaves pain for families and loved ones? Nobody wins in this battle. I think the weariness I felt counselling was made more intense because of these events, and also because of the on-going internal battle of pain and mental health my clients are facing. Everyday seems hard for them and I suppose I questioned my hope for them. Hope is the very one thing that is foundational for me. As Britt taught yesterday, we all need to hear stories of hope and encouragement, to know that God has not abandoned us or has left that person dangling.

There seems to be so much darkness in people’s lives and in the situations they are facing. I see in their lives a lingering dark shadow with nowhere for them to turn. Then I doubt God. Doubt His ability. Doubt my own ability. So, it was refreshing to be reminded of a quote from Tolkien. In The Return of the King, Sam and Frodo are in a difficult place. They are tired and overwhelmed and all around is just darkness and eerie shadows. Then Sam looks up to the mountains a sees a white star twinkling in the sky. The beauty of it spoke right into his heart: “For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty forever beyond its reach”.

Despite the shadows lurking in people’s minds or situations, or the shadows of terror that looms over the world, I have to believe there is a brighter light. A source of beauty. The television overwhelms us with horror, but equally fails to show us the good. There are stories of many people helping, supporting, trying to bring beauty out of dirt. There are stories out there of rescue and warm hugs, meals being cooked, and friends walk the pathway with each other.

This song deeply ministered to my soul today as I leaned gently against the window, took in the beauty of the greens and blues and pondered how wonderful it will be when all tears have been cried, all sighs and weariness spent, and Jesus will be waiting, waiting with His overwhelming, generous love.

After The Last Tear Falls by Andrew Peterson (on the album Love and Thunder)

After the last tear falls
After the last secret’s told
After the last bullet tears through flesh and bone
After the last child starves
And the last girl walks the boulevard
After the last year that’s just too hard

There is love
Love, love, love
There is love
Love, love, love
There is love

After the last disgrace
After the last lie to save some face
After the last brutal jab from a poison tongue
After the last dirty politician
After the last meal down at the mission
After the last lonely night in prison

There is love
Love, love, love
There is love
Love, love, love
There is love

And in the end, the end is
Oceans and oceans
Of love and love again
We’ll see how the tears that have fallen
Were caught in the palms
Of the Giver of love and the Lover of all
And we’ll look back on these tears as old tales

‘Cause after the last plan fails
After the last siren wails
After the last young husband sails off to join the war
After the last “this marriage is over”
After the last young girl’s innocence is stolen
After the last years of silence that won’t let a heart open

There is love
Love, love, love
There is love

And in the end, the end is
Oceans and oceans
Of love and love again
We’ll see how the tears that have fallen
Were caught in the palms
Of the Giver of love and the Lover of all
And we’ll look back on these tears as old tales
‘Cause after the last tear falls
There is love

PLEASE LISTEN AND ENJOY–AND MAY IT MINISTER TO AND SOOTHE YOUR HEART.

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The end of October greets us with the end of Day Light savings. As I type, it is total darkness outside and we are thinking of ways to heat our house! Many in Northern Ireland are more susceptible to Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) as we are situated in the higher latitudes of the northern hemisphere where there are large changes in light between summer and winter. We also experience periods of dark, gloomy weather which further reduces the light we receive and therefore has a profound effect on our body clocks.

What I am finding at East Belfast Mission is those people who already suffer with depression and other low moods are now buried under an extra layer of sadness. What they coped with reasonably well just a month ago now feels unbearable. One of the dear people I work with said it is like, “a heavy blanket covering over me, and I don’t know how to get it off…I feel choked and angry with who I’ve become.”

Can glorious light shine out of the depths of despair? Even if we don’t struggle with depression but experience weariness, loss, busyness from school runs, dishes, meals, people, even church, is there joy? Can joy – strong and unshakeable, remain constant? I probably would have hesitated on answering this until I met an amazing person who has dealt with more than I’ve ever heard before. Words like cancer, bankruptcy, terminal illness, burying their child and anger are part of the words between us. I actually wept on hearing such things. What I also heard was God and love and presence and power and prayer. Somewhere, with their own blanket of grief covering them is a small glimmer of Hope. It’s what she holds onto when vomit from cancer and tears of a lost child engulf her. She is also in the arms of a praying community and the blessings from that are life saving. Glorious light, even faintly, still shines. I was deeply encouraged.

John 1:5-The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness had not overcome it.

The kids are on half term break which also brings around birthday celebrations. Ellie turns 11 years on 3 November. Her creative spirit had me busy working out how to make a macaroon tower and make crepes for the first time! She is a lover of the American Girl movie Grace, which has a french theme. Along with her sister and 5 friends I think the “oh la la” was flowing. We praise God for how she is growing so beautifully (and creatively!).
Please remember her over this coming month as she finally sits three one hour examinations for secondary school. These tests are the culmination of years of work (though the school she is selected for is not known until May 2016).
Ellie has worked hard these past few months, but more importantly, beyond Maths and English, she is learning to live with forgiveness and truthfulness and her heart is being shaped. We love the journey she is on and are so proud of her.

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Britt is finishing his time as a missionary with Global Ministries, and is being stationed by the Methodist Church in Ireland at another congregation in East Belfast. Alison will be continuing in her role as a Global Ministries Missionary – using her counseling gifts at East Belfast Mission. Both of us are grateful to all who have prayed for and supported us these four years, and would be glad for your continuing support for Alison and prayers for our whole family!

“As Jesus walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. ‘Come, follow me,’ Jesus said, ‘and I will make you fishers of men.’ At once they left their nets and followed him.”

Mark 1:16-18

There are some journeys we undertake without fully knowing our destination.

When Jesus called the disciples to follow him, they had no idea what kind of change it would bring to their lives. Would they return to their nets in a week, a month, or a year? What places would they visit? What would they actually do (‘fishing for men’ may not have made much sense)? They could not have imagined the joy, amazement, or pain that they would encounter. They only knew, in that particular moment, that it was right for them to go with Jesus.

Worship in Connswater Community Centre. Photo by Mike DuBose, UMCom.

In the summer of 2011, as we were saying goodbye to friends and family in Orlando, we weren’t sure what it would look like for us to be serving at East Belfast Mission as a family – we only knew that it was right for us to go. I did know something about the place, having previously spent two years with the youth at EBM. Yet we knew that the organization was undergoing tremendous transition, as they were building a large new space with a vision of offering renewal for the surrounding community. For our first eighteen months, therefore, the congregation met in a local community center, and there were plenty of conversations about the move in the midst of normal life of building community, preaching God’s word, and caring for one another.

Plenty of Change!

Moving into Skainos, however, was just one of the major changes that EBM has traversed during our time. There have been expanded projects and new staff, so that EBM has nearly twice as many employees as when we arrived four years ago. Last year, the mission welcomed a new Superintendent in Rev. Margaret Ferguson, as Rev. Gary Mason finished his fifteen years leading the organization. In addition, there was a particularly difficult year bridging 2013-14 as a number of key staff were dismissed following a lengthy investigation.

Together, these changes have created an atmosphere of constant shifting – and have formed our understanding of God’s call for us as mission partners. Our growing sense of vocation was to offer care, help and peace (as we could in our limited ways!) to the community at and around EBM in such intense times of transition. Though Alison’s role as counselor has been steady, my responsibilities as Associate Minister have varied from year to year depending on the needs of the season.

A week might have entailed the following:

Meeting in our cafe offering encouragement to a young adult trying to stay sober and find a way through a difficult time, or listening and offering prayer with a resident in our hostel.

Preparing and leading a Bible study and discussion for long-term members of our congregation.

Meeting with and offering support to our homework-club co-ordinator, and then popping by to say hello to the children.

Visiting a congregant in the hospital.

Writing a grant monitoring report to give feedback to a funder of our social programme for seniors in the community.

Hosting and offering a tour to a visiting group from America (GA, FL, MN, WV, etc…), Malawi, Malaysia, Belgium, or Belfast!

Getting ready for a community service day. Photo by Mike DuBose, UMCom.

Everybody Matters

These bullet points, however, are just a listing of activities and only mean something when there are representative of caring relationships. One of the things I have enjoyed about EBM is the many people who seek to honor the worth and dignity of each individual – no matter their past or current failures. The clearest organizational value is ‘Everybody Matters’, which is rooted in our Biblical understanding that every person is created in the image of God. Some people who come across the door of the mission may be overlooked by the rest of society, but they matter to God and should matter to us.

What is next?

As Alison and I prayed about the future over this past year, we felt that this summer would mark a turning point. It has felt to us like this season of significant transitions is now drawing near an end, and that EBM would be entering a new season of life. It is difficult to put months of prayer and conversation into a few words, but I felt that this summer would be the right time to say farewell to a place that has shaped me profoundly over two seasons in my life.

Having now been stationed by the Methodist Church in Ireland, I will be taking up the role of minister at Knock Methodist Church from 1 July. This church is only located about two miles away from EBM, and yet it will be a very different experience for me compared to the last four years.

Alison will continue in her current role as GBGM missionary as a mental health counselor at EBM. She has received much positive feedback from her ministry, and (though I’m clearly biased!) I see how she is clearly gifted for this work. Due to the trauma that Northern Ireland has endured in the past, there are many people with severe depression, along with many other mental health challenges that have arisen through a time of such conflict. She offers hope and perspective to people in very difficult places. The counseling service at EBM has been and continues to be in high demand. Alison will be increasing her hours in the upcoming months, and continues to be sent and supported in this work by Global Ministries of the United Methodist Church.

So we find ourselves on a continuing journey – seeking to follow God with our lives and yet unsure what the next stage will feel like. I am thankful for these past years at EBM, and am conscious that the ministry offered across the world by Global Ministries would not be possible without individuals and congregations who give and pray and support this work. So thank you once more, and may you know God’s blessing and guidance in your own adventures of following Christ today.